Just a Park Bench
by OrangePlum
Summary: It had started out as a simple ritual to escape from the stresses of work. It was just a park bench, really. Nothing special about it. At least, not until a certain American wormed his way in and threw peace and quiet out Arthur's window.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes: _

Since writing _Don't Blink_, I'm a bit addicted to long, angsty stories; possibly even two-shots. That's my new thing now. I'm better at two-shots because they're more than just one chapter, but not so long like multiple chapter stories that I tend to neglect and feel guilty over…

I hope you dig wangsty two-shots as well, or else you probably shouldn't read this story.

Enjoy.

* * *

_Monday, November 1_

It was a ritual, really. Just something to do to take a load off and forget about the stresses that society pushed onto people. With a hectic life of running from home to work, staying hours upon hours until caffeine wouldn't even cut it anymore, paying bills, grocery shopping, and fitting three to four hours a night (if lucky) to sleep, taking thirty minutes for himself every weekday didn't seem like such a selfish act.

Arthur shut his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck painfully, shoulders slumped forward as he let the cool air dance across his sore muscles. Despite the small layer of snow littering the ground and coating the tops of trees to turn them from broccoli sprouts to cauliflower, Arthur still found this one place in the park to be tranquil.

So much work and no play made Arthur Kirkland an angry, tired, somber, and tired man.

Did he mention he was tired?

For the past week, this had been his spot. This one blue park bench had been his only place to relax before going back to his fast-paced life where many people depended on him without wanting to get to know him. And he loved this spot; came to look forward to his thirty minutes in the park every day. It was his treat for being such a hard working fellow.

Arthur leaned back against the cool plastic and shut his eyes, enjoying the sounds of people walking by, the birds still chirping, and the dull lull of traffic off in the distance. He became immersed and let go, folding his hands across his trench coat and sighing.

He was too involved with his free time that he didn't quite register the crunching of boots on the snow heading steadily closer. He didn't notice until a soft plop touched his ears as the bench jumped momentarily, a body flopped ungracefully onto the other end.

Arthur opened his eyes, looking at the gray sky above before he craned his neck curiously to see a mop of blonde hair sticking out of a ridiculously large coat, one stubborn cowlick standing above all the rest. He blinked, as if this wasn't registering, before the body stretched their legs out, a stiff groan being torn from their throat.

He paused.

Someone was ruining his sanctuary.

Assuming the boy – yes, now that he got a closer look, he could tell that it was a young boy – would vacate the premises in a few minutes, stopping to recollect himself from a "harsh" day of school, Arthur left it alone. But as the minutes gathered to nearly reaching ten, Arthur began to frown to himself.

This kid was eating up time from his thirty minutes. Where did he get the nerve to come and sit on this very park bench and text and blow loud bubbles with his gum and _hum_. No; Arthur shook his head and straightened up, suit rustling under his coat as he did so. He drew the line at humming.

"Excuse me," Arthur said politely, leaning forward ever so slightly to catch the boy's attention. The blonde merely glanced up at him through his glasses before looking back at his phone.

"Hm?"

Arthur mentally scolded the lad for his poor posture. Were parents really so out of the loop that they couldn't keep their children from slouching?

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound rude, but do you think you could possibly move?" Arthur asked, voice coated with the persuasion he used daily in his office. He felt the corners of his lips twitch, wanting nothing more than to frown when the boy didn't even bother looking up from his cellular device. No manners, huh?

"Oh, sure. No problem," came the cheerful response, making Arthur relax. Good, now he could get back to unwinding. It took a moment, for the boy had to finish up his text message, before the American picked up his backpack and scooted further down the bench, resting at the farthest possible edge away from Arthur.

The Briton hesitated before the realization that his words had been misinterpreted finally clicked in his mind. He spoke up once more, sounding as polite but forceful as possible. "I don't mean to bother you again, but I'm afraid you misunderstood my request. You see, I was asking you to leave." The blonde glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "As in, not sit here."

The boy stared a long while, his deep blue eyes unnerving Arthur as he waited for a reaction. Just as quickly as the last time, the American focused back on his phone and snorted, squashing any remains of civility in their conversation. "It's a free country, dude."

Arthur slowly let his brow furrow slightly. "Yes, it technically is, but freedom works both ways. You also have the freedom to move and find another bench to sit on."

"Aaaaaand I'm not going to do that."

Well, this child was positively insufferable. "Even though I'm asking such a simple request, you won't do it to be kind?"

"No_pe_," the blonde responded, popping the 'p.' Arthur curled his fingers into his numb palms.

"What is your name?" he asked with a strained voice. The boy looked up at him curiously through the fur of his brown jacket clinging to his rosy cheeks and red nose.

"Alfred," he responded cautiously. "Why?"

"No reason. I just wanted to put a name to the overall grime that is the impolite youth of America."

Alfred sat up at that, the light of his cell screen no longer reflecting off of his glasses. "Hey, you can't label me like that."

"I believe I just did. Children today apparently have no manners. I'm surprised you could even talk without having that contraption glued to your hand communicate for you," Arthur griped. He was angry once again. This was his bench; _his_. And by God, if this little brat wasn't going to move, then he would damn well throw a hissy fit. Thirty minutes wasn't a lot of time. Did this little monster have to be so inconsiderate that he couldn't let him have _thirty fucking minutes_ a day to himself?

He would surely go mad.

Alfred gawked indignantly before pouting, his voice louder in retaliation. "I have the right to sit where I want. Just because you are so old that you don't even know how to use a cell phone doesn't mean that you can insult me. It's just a bench. Why don't _you_ go find another one?"

Arthur sputtered. "I was here first!"

"I don't see your name on it!"

"You're being ridiculous. Does that spot mean so much to you that you can't leave for ten bloody minutes?" Arthur growled, his high blood pressure nearly hitting the roof. He felt himself becoming defensive as Alfred stuck his nose up haughtily in the air.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, it does! I love this bench. I'm going to get married here and conceive my children here and sit here every day until I die!"

Arthur glared. "You're insane and absolutely _crude_."

"Thank you!" Alfred countered mockingly. Arthur didn't think it was possible to hate someone so quickly, but Alfred seemed to be breaking the record. His patience was at an all time low. He hadn't had lunch and hadn't slept the night before, too busy working on a project that was eating up all of his time, and now his alone time was shattered because of some stupid American boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

"You're a right riot, you know that? I can't even comprehend how your parents even decided to keep you," Arthur exclaimed, wagging his finger in Alfred's face. Alfred all but head-butted the Briton as he leaned in, sticking his finger accusingly into Arthur's face as the older male had done.

"Get your finger out of my face."

"You get your finger out of mine." Arthur smacked his hand away. Alfred retaliated by smacking Arthur's away. Arthur stood up with a scowl, causing Alfred to stand up as well, not wanting to seem small against this very intimidating man with green eyes flashing dangerously at him. They stood there with sneers on their faces for a long while before Arthur felt a growl low in his chest, spinning on his heels and marching away.

He didn't even spare another look back to see Alfred's reaction as he pulled up his sleeve and looked at his watch, seething.

That damn child ate up the rest of his relaxing time. Now he was tenser than ever.

* * *

_Tuesday, November 2_

Arthur rubbed his hands together and blew a waft of warm air over his skin as he inhaled the cool outside air. After a particularly early and particularly grueling meeting earlier that particular morning, Arthur was thankful to leave after his lunch and resume his spot on his park bench.

He felt like the weight on his shoulders was getting heavier with each passing month; more work and less free time. He couldn't even fathom his daily routine anymore without this bench.

With a grateful sigh, Arthur leaned back and watched as two women walked passed him in long coats to keep the November chill at bay.

It was times like these that made him want to burn his therapist's card that he kept in his top desk drawer. Who needed to talk out all of their problems and negative feelings when he felt just as good sitting alone without feeling pressured to think or even move?

He hunkered his face into his coat and wiggled his toes in his dress shoes. This was as good as it got…

Until he heard a voice that was like nails on a chalkboard. Upon hearing said voice, every hair on Arthur's body stood on end as he looked up and down the pathway with dread. No. Couldn't be.

His throat closed in on itself when he saw the familiar face of Alfred, too busy kicking at a twig in the snow with a vacant look in his eyes, face buried in his scarf that rested just below his chin.

"Oh, for the love of God and all His apostles," Arthur muttered under his breath and cursed. He stiffened instantly when his eyes locked with two innocent blue eyes before Alfred stopped, body in front of the bench. Arthur stilled and waited, hoping that Alfred would just continue walking by. He wasn't callous enough to sit down for spite, was he?

Alfred watched Arthur blandly, seeming to secretly enjoy the distress fogging over the back of his eyes before he unceremoniously plopped himself onto the same corner he had the previous day. Arthur mentally shrieked, pulling out all of his hair and stomping his feet. On the outside, however, he simply fumed.

"Howdy," Alfred greeted nonchalantly, though his voice didn't seem chipper. It sounded as though it was just a mechanical response that he followed daily. "Didn't expect to see you here again."

"Nor I you," Arthur grudgingly admitted.

Alfred stretched his legs out like a cat as he had the other day before stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Nice day, huh? Great day to sit on a bench in the park."

"_Quite_." Arthur let out an edgy breath through his nostrils before rubbing his temples soothingly. "This particular bench?"

"Oh, it's the best. For some reason, it's never too cold or too warm here. It's like the sun hits it just right to make everything balanced and… What's the word I'm looking for?"

Arthur begrudgingly shook his head. This was absurd. Two days in a row he had to endure such a presence? Some greater power was surely testing him for this. Ignoring the fact that the sun wasn't out and hadn't been for many a week now, Arthur answered. "Serene?" he offered, making Alfred shake his head.

"No, not serene. More like… calm."

"That means the same thing," Arthur informed, feeling a headache already forming. Alfred smiled a lopsided smile at him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes."

"Well, shit. I've been using that word completely different," he laughed, acting as though the realization was the funniest thing in the world. Arthur merely cringed at the melodious pitch of the boy's chortles and shied away, bottom nearly falling over the edge of the bench. This wasn't fair.

It was silent a few minutes before Alfred decided to ruin it by speaking once more. Arthur wanted to reach over and slap the blonde, but decided against it in case he could be charged with child abuse. "So, like, what? Are you a chimney sweep or something?" Alfred asked genuinely, making Arthur gape at him.

"I beg your pardon?"

Alfred grinned and gestured to Arthur's attire. "Well, you're all neat and primpy, plus you've got that whole 'step in time' accent going on. You're Scottish, right?"

"I most certainly am not. And aside from your crude allegations, not even taking into account that they were British in _Mary Poppins_, I don't see why I would have to disclose my occupation."

"Ooh. So secretive. Are you a secret agent?" Alfred joked, pulling at the strings from his jacket.

"Yes. You may identify me as 007," Arthur replied, rolling his eyes cynically. This boy was a simpleton. A simpleton who wouldn't for the life of himself shut up.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bond," Alfred grinned, cheeks pushing up into his eyes that were littered with mirth. Arthur smiled dryly.

"Charming," he drawled, reaching into his coat and fisting around for something. He found it quickly and pulled out his wallet, Alfred watching curiously as Arthur began to remove a few bills from its contents. "Not that I don't enjoy talking to _intelligent _people such as yourself with no built in filter for your mouth, I am willing to offer you fifty American dollars if you shut your howling screamer." Alfred's eyes widened in awe at the money waved in front of his face. "_Indefinitely_."

Alfred looked up at the seriousness radiating off of the Briton's face before he smiled. "You serious?"

"As a heart attack."

Alfred popped a large bubble before sucking his gum back into his mouth, showing off his sparkly whites. "Those are pretty serious. Sure, I'm in." He stuck his hand out and waited as Arthur placed the bills into the other's hand. He pulled back quickly before Alfred could grab the money, Alfred giving him an odd look at the action.

"I'm serious. This is buying your silence. Not a chuckle or hum or very obvious observation that you find ludicrously clever."

Alfred nodded. "I got it. Icksne on the alkingte." Alfred made a motion as if zipping his lips and throwing away the key. Arthur narrowed his eyes but reluctantly lowered the money into Alfred's hand, pulling his arm back quickly before any skin on skin contact could be administered.

Alfred held up the money and beamed, looking at them front to back. "Woah, it's legit. You weren't fooling me."

"Ah-ah-ah," Arthur tsked. "Absolute silence."

Alfred nodded and sank back against the bench comfortably, silently snickering to himself. Easiest fifty bucks he'd ever made! Arthur, on the other hand, couldn't agree more. Best fifty dollars he had ever spent. He checked his watch to see fifteen minutes to spare.

With a contented breath, the Briton relaxed and lolled his head back, hands stuffed warmly into his pockets. Finally; sweet silence.

He could get used to this. Alfred wasn't such an annoying little berk if he just shut his fat gob. With time, the tenseness from life in general started to fade away, Arthur slipping into his own little world of peace and serenity as the seconds added up. The soothing faces of unicorns and fairies made him smile and unwind, the smell of cinnamon and peppermint permeable in his mind's eye.

He was in heaven.

… Until a crinkling sound shook his inner world like an earthquake, tearing it apart at the seams.

Arthur furrowed his brow until the noise went away. He brushed it off and began to sink back into his happy spot when the same horrid noise disturbed his vision like a rock thrown into tepid water. Arthur crinkled his nose as more shuffling reached his ears, forcing him to open his eyes and glance quickly over at Alfred, who was staring out at a couple of toddlers trying to feed the pigeons with their mom, munching noisily on a candy bar.

Arthur had to rub his eyes to believe what he was seeing. The boy devoured the chocolate treat in a matter of seconds! Alfred fished out another from his backpack and tore it open harshly, the wrinkling of the plastic hurting Arthur's eardrums.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

Alfred blinked and turned his curious vision to the Briton eyeing him heatedly. He continued to chew his candy until Arthur huffed, waving him off. "You can answer me."

At this, recognition crossed Alfred's face and he swallowed, licking at the corner of his lips. Arthur wanted to kick himself for how endearing such a simple action could be. He blamed it on his stress. "Eating."

"You're making noise."

Alfred shrugged. "Sorry?"

Arthur frowned and tapped his foot restlessly on the cement path. "You're not allowed to make any noise. Give me back my money if you're going to go against our deal."

Alfred swallowed another bite and shook his head. "Hey, no can do, man. You just said I couldn't talk."

"But you're being equally loud right now!" Arthur declared, exasperated.

"Sorry, pal. The deal was that I couldn't talk, not that I couldn't eat. The verdict stands," Alfred hummed, turning his attention back to the toddlers stumbling over themselves to get away from the unpredictable New York birds. Arthur felt like ripping out his hair.

Bollocks to him.

With a huff, Arthur sharply turned away, shutting his eyes harshly and intending to still find some way to relax and enjoy the rest of his time. Sadly, he winced and grimaced at every crinkle, every smack, and every loud gulp that Alfred produced. It was like some horrible episode of the _Twilight Zone_ with a world void of peace and quiet.

Before Arthur knew it, his watch timer went off, prying his eyes open and revealing him to a horrible reality with a virus named Alfred. He stiffly pulled up his sleeve and turned it off, sitting up slowly and glaring across the way. The people walking in his line of vision scurried away at the intensity behind his gaze.

Arthur got to his feet and straightened his collar out, slowly starting to meander back to his office. Alfred looked up from all his chewing and waved, calling out with a mouth full of food. "Have a nice day, and thanks for the cash!"

Arthur cringed.

Dear Lord, what had just happened?

* * *

_Wednesday, November 3_

"No."

"What?"

Arthur just shook his head and held out his hands, as if the action alone would keep the American making his way towards the bench stop. Arthur stared stubbornly at Alfred, who stood in front of him with a curious and slightly amused look in his eyes. "No, you're not sitting here again. Not today," Arthur explained, this time sitting in the exact center of the bench. He didn't want to make the same mistake he'd done the past two days and leave space for another body to sit comfortably.

"It's a–" Alfred started until Arthur cut him off.

"Yes, a free country. I know, I know. But you're just going to have to find another place to sit today. You're not sitting here."

"Says who?" Alfred asked and craned his neck, not looking particularly upset over this situation. He looked actually like he was a little entertained, which just made Arthur's blood boil all the more. This wasn't funny! "I have just as much a right to sit here as you do. Even more so since I was actually born here, actually. You were born in France or something."

Arthur grit his teeth at being lumped together with the French. Not an insult could be worse. "_I have citizenship here_. But that's beside the point; you cannot sit here today."

Alfred let his gaze linger on Arthur's face for a long while, making the Briton feel a bit nervous, his stomach squirming uncomfortably before Alfred shrugged. "There's no room, huh?"

"None," Arthur clarified obstinately.

"It would just be really awkward if I decided to sit down, then, huh?" Alfred said, rocking back on his heels.

"Very."

With an understanding bob of the head, Alfred shifted his body as if he were going to leave. Arthur relaxed a little at that, sitting up not so defensively. In the blink of an eye, Alfred sat himself down on his usual corner, body pressed up next to Arthur, heat radiating off of him in waves. Arthur blinked, slowly taking this information in as he stared wide-eyed like a deer caught in the headlights when Alfred turned to look at him.

He could feel Alfred's breath as he spoke, their faces close enough that Arthur could see things more clearly than he had been able to before, like the dimple on Alfred's left cheek when he smiled, or the little freckles on his nose. "I'm sure I can fit."

Arthur scurried away, face aflame in shock as he clung to his side of the bench, watching as Alfred straightened himself out from Arthur's quick movement to get away, the blonde nearly toppling over now that Arthur's body wasn't there to hold him up.

He laughed in amusement and pointed at Arthur, who was looking at the younger male as if he'd just sprouted a second head. "You should see your face."

With jerky movements, his joints feeling like they were covered with cement, Arthur leveled himself out and tried to regain his composure. All right, he never actually thought Alfred would try to practically sit in his lap. He underestimated what the boy would go through to keep this spot. He really wanted this bench, didn't he?

"Why won't you go away?" Arthur bemoaned silently and placed his face into his hands in frustration.

Alfred snuggled back into his jacket and slumped down lazily on the bench. "Ah, don't be like that. Sharing isn't so bad. Didn't your kindergarten teacher ever teach you to share?"

"I skipped kindergarten," Arthur grit out, casting eyes as sharp as knives in Alfred's direction. The dimwitted boy didn't even flinch. He was acting like Arthur's disdain was just a game.

"Well, aren't you the smart one. I can see you missed out on the people skills as well. You missed a big portion of how to function in everyday life, pal," Alfred explained, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

Arthur wanted to bash his head against a tree. This was insufferable. It had taken him so much time just scouting out an appropriate place close enough for walking distance from his work and quiet enough for him to collect his thoughts. There was no way he was going to give up his bench just because of one loudmouthed dozy American.

"Aw, now don't look at me like that. You're going to make me feel like I'm not wanted or something," Alfred teased when seeing the pure abhorrence behind Arthur's leveled stare. "Here, look, if it'll make you feel better, I won't try and chat with you at all. I'm just here to chill for a little bit, that's all. I'll do my own thing, you do yours. Sound cool?"

Arthur didn't bother saying anything before shifting away and hunkering down with a frown. That sounded too good to be true.

Not wanting to test the waters, Arthur took Alfred up on his offer, hoping to anyone watching that he would be left alone.

As time went on, Arthur began to feel the lactic acid in his shoulders start to loosen. Not a peep was made out of the blonde beside him. Arthur was going to glance over in suspicion to see what was going on but decided against it. He didn't want to chance startling Alfred into thinking that he wanted to communicate.

So instead, Arthur watched the people passing by in silence, enjoying the quiet for the first time in many needed days.

And then Alfred had to ruin in by turning on his IPod.

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disdain, knowing it was too good to be true. The terrible music flooded into his ears with the grace of an asymmetrical ballerina as Arthur slowly looked over at Alfred, who was sitting quietly with one headphone in as he tapped his foot with the melody.

He probably didn't even know his volume was too loud.

"Your parents should beat you," Arthur grumbled, his migraine coming back.

Alfred glanced over at him and paused, pushing an unsteady smile on his face at Arthur's statement. Arthur simply scowled, getting up and walking away.

There was no point in sitting there any longer. The rest of his thirty minutes would surely be tainted by whatever garbage that was pouring out of Alfred's music device.

Damn America and their portable everything.

* * *

_Monday, November 8_

"I can't believe you still come here," Alfred laughed when sitting down on the oh-so-familiar blue bench. He brushed some snow off of the side and placed his backpack down.

Arthur didn't even acknowledge his presence, merely staring out into the pathway where pedestrians walked like normal. "It's my spot."

He thought after the weekend that Alfred wouldn't show up anymore. Sure, he _had_ every weekday last week, but perhaps this week would've been different. He was dead wrong.

"Your name's not on it."

Arthur didn't look up, simply hoisted his thumb up to knock against the back of the bench. Alfred looked over curiously, his eyes widening slightly upon seeing a small black strip against the plastic, the name _Arthur Kirkland_ typed out in precise font.

Alfred whistled. "Woah. Did you bring a label maker here or something?"

Arthur didn't say anything.

Alfred leaned forward, raising his eyebrows slightly at the flinch in Arthur's shoulders at the closer proximity before eyeing the font. "Your name's Arthur?"

No response.

Alfred leaned back and mulled that over, burying his chin into his scarf. "That's… an old man name," he finally admitted. He got a reaction that time.

Arthur sat up, looking absolutely appalled. "_Excuse_ _me_?"

"What? My great, great grandpa's name is Arthur. You're like super old or something to have a name like that." Alfred paused. "Or maybe Europe's just behind on the common day names now. Did you guys experience the 80s yet?"

Arthur counted back to ten in his head. "I'll have you know that I'm not a day over thirty-five."

Alfred feigned surprise and waved his hands. "Wow, thirty-_five_? It's like you just graduated high school." Alfred grinned when Arthur's face flushed in embarrassment.

"At least I'm not still wearing diapers like you," Arthur countered, not caring if he sounded immature.

"Debatable," Alfred yawned into his hand. "But I don't wear diapers."

"Debatable," Arthur regurgitated Alfred's own words back at him.

"I don't. And I'm not going to set myself up so you can check."

Arthur didn't think it was possible to feel his skin crawl simultaneously when he felt like someone stuck his head in an oven. He sputtered, gawking in a totally unprofessional manner before looking away. There was always some way that this boy could get under his skin.

_Sodding moron_.

"You look a lot worse today. Bad weekend?" Alfred asked after a moment. He dug the front of his shoe into a pile of snow, trying to get the grass showing beneath it. Arthur kept his gaze away from his unwanted companion and flexed his fingers in his pockets.

"Lots of work to be done," Arthur stated simply.

"Don't I know the feeling," Alfred muttered with another yawn. Arthur wanted to scowl at that.

"I'm sure you do," he murmured under his breath sarcastically, low enough so Alfred wouldn't hear.

"What do you do anyway? You look like you make a lot of money," Alfred asked curiously, sitting up to watch Arthur. Arthur felt something inside him flutter nervously at being watched under such an earnest gaze.

"None of your concern."

Alfred hummed and sat back, gazing over the tree-line in the park to see the tops of very large and tall buildings. "I bet you work in a place like that; some big corporate building with high standards and long hours. You just seem like a '_grit your teeth and get it done'_ kinda guy."

Arthur snorted.

"I could never do that."

_No, you couldn't_, Arthur thought, agitated. There was no amount of work ethic in the world that could make him believe that Alfred could buckle down and get work done. He seemed like a slacker. Alfred fiddled with a button on his jacket before continuing.

"Too much work would get lonely," he said quietly, almost just to himself. Arthur stilled, not quite expecting the blonde to say that. "You gotta hate it. How could you like it? No time to yourself or for anyone else. I think that's pretty damn selfish, don't you think? People who work like a dog day in and day out don't think about people that could want to spend time with them for more than ten seconds. Kinda makes me sick."

Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth, frowning. He didn't even have to look up at Alfred to know the boy was staring far off into the distance as if he had personally experienced something similar. Being so blatantly pinned down, Alfred's repulsion with the whole corporate world out in the open, Arthur felt slightly self-conscious. Something in his stomach squirmed uncomfortably and he tensed.

"Who cares what someone like you thinks? In the great scheme of things, at least those people matter. People like you hold little value in the world. If you disappeared tomorrow, hardly anyone would even notice," Arthur bit out bitterly, not much liking Alfred insulting him or his lifestyle.

He chanced a peek through the fringe of his bangs when it was quiet too long to see Alfred smiling at him with a vacant smile, something lingering at the back of his eyes that made Arthur almost wish he hadn't said anything. It looked as though that wasn't the first time Alfred had heard similar words. And what was worse, he looked like he knew that to be true as well.

Feeling the slight bite of guilt against his innards, Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Why don't you disappear right now, hm? Go on. Go play with your friends or build legos or something," he said, shooing Alfred away in a weak attempt to dislodge the somber mood that suddenly snuck up upon them.

Alfred rubbed under his nose and smiled, brushing a hand through his hair. "Legos? How young do you think I am?" he attempted to laugh, streams of white clouds flying from his lips at the cold climate.

"Young enough to make me feel like your babysitter. Now won't you be a good lad and give me some peace and quiet?" Arthur asked, not really expecting a serious response. He'd asked dozens of times and Alfred had yet to comply with his requests to leave. Boy, did he need to relax; he'd been double as stressed since Alfred had invaded his quiet spot.

"Why don't you just go to sleep?" Alfred asked, biting at the edge of his nail and raising an eyebrow at Arthur curiously. "I can tell that you want to. You look like a raccoon with those bags under your eyes."

"It's not that simple. It would be foolish to fall asleep defenseless in the park. I look like I make a lot of money, remember?" Arthur smiled smugly and gestured to his expensive suit. Alfred bobbed his head in agreement before continuing chewing on his nail.

"You could sleep at work or something if you don't have enough time to go home."

"When you're as old as I am, you'll understand that you can't do anything but work where you work. That is just how the human mind is wired," Arthur sighed, wishing for nothing more than to be able to sleep against his desk every day. Then he wouldn't have to deal with such shenanigans as fighting over a random park bench.

Alfred shut his eyes and snuggled back against the bench in thought. He wasn't so sure. He had school work but still managed to sleep every day in class. Sure, senior year was not a busy year, but that didn't mean that he didn't have _any_ work to do.

"What if I said I'd watch over you?"

Arthur didn't let the words register in his mind, the words clogging against the gears in his head. "What?"

Alfred looked away, fidgeting a little. "You know, watch you so no one tries to mug you and stuff."

Arthur stared at him a long while, making Alfred dart his eyes away every now and then. Arthur sighed and looked away finally. "Preposterous."

"Why is that preposterous?" Alfred asked with a frown.

"You'd probably just rob me yourself. Heaven knows you need the money. Just look at your clothes."

Alfred held his arms out and looked down at his jacket and blue jeans. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"They're tacky."

"No they aren't. Everyone at school wears clothes like this."

"Precisely," Arthur let out an exasperated breath and held his fingers to his forehand. "You're one of the many poor to middle class citizens who can't afford to pass up an opportunity to get some money in this economy."

Alfred scowled at that, pursing his lips angrily. "At least I don't act so high and mighty when someone is offering to do something nice for me. Forget I said anything." As if greatly offended, Alfred picked up his backpack and stormed off.

Arthur watched the boy's back as he stumbled away down the path and out of sight, mixing in with the many other people who walked through the park daily. He silently wondered if he had said too much but ended up resting the nape of his neck against the cool back of the bench.

Finally, some silence.

* * *

_Friday, November 12_

Arthur was surprised when he didn't see that familiar cheerful face that usually greeted him with some inane story. Up until then, for the past nine days Alfred had infected his peace like the plague. But to the Briton's surprise, that one Friday, November twelfth, Alfred did not show up.

No horrible music.

No candy crunching.

No humming or singing.

No laughter.

No bright rosy cheeks and goofy grins.

No Alfred.

Arthur didn't know what to think of it. He simply shut his eyes and breathed.

Perhaps his life and basic routine would fade back to normal.

* * *

_Tuesday, November 16_

Arthur literally felt his jaw drop when he saw Alfred sit himself down and turn his face away, almost in mortification.

Yes, there had been two days which Arthur had been able to consecutively enjoy the loneliness that he had come to enjoy and look forward to. But he had to force himself to sit up when seeing Alfred shyly make his way towards that blue bench and stare.

"What the blooming hell happened to your face?" Arthur blurted, momentarily stunned too much to keep his exclamation solely in his mind.

Alfred bit at his lip and pulled at his fingers in his lap before hesitantly taking a peek at the gawking Briton. Even in the dull light of the clouded sky, the snow now piling up in dreary mounds as winter approached, Arthur could clearly see the bruise along Alfred's jaw line. He almost – _almost _– reached out to take the boy's chin in his hands to get a better look, but caught himself at the last minute. He didn't have the right to do that.

"What do you mean?" Alfred tried to play innocent.

Arthur began to rein back control over himself as he blinked away the surprise and examined the bruise intently from afar. "Who hit you?" Arthur asked seriously. Alfred flinched at that before looking confused.

"What makes you think someone hit me?"

Arthur frowned. "Unless you're severely hemophilic, I don't think you would bruise that easily. Someone hit you."

Alfred laughed, sounding honestly surprised at Arthur's reaction. He didn't really know why, though. Even though Arthur was practically a stranger, he was still an adult. And any responsible adult (such as Arthur) would show interest in such an ugly mark marring his face.

"I just got in a little fight at school. Nothing big. You know, just typical teenage hijinks," Alfred said, brushing off the stony gaze he was receiving.

Arthur felt his frown grow longer. He somehow doubted that. Alfred seemed like he was trying to protect someone, the idea making the Englishman want to scoff. Who could be worth protecting that would hit a child? Well, Alfred _technically_ wasn't a child, but he was still in high school, and that had to count for something.

"What about you? What happened to _your _face?" Alfred asked quickly, trying to stop Arthur from further questioning him as his mouth opened. Arthur stopped, huffing to himself as he ran a hand through his hair, already aware of what Alfred was referring to.

"I believe I already explained that I work long hours," Arthur mumbled. For the past day or so, he'd been walking around with dark circles under his eyes. Another weekend with overtime and an all-nighter could do that to you.

"Dude, you should take some time off or something. At least to sleep. You _do _sleep, don't you?" Alfred asked inquisitively, leaning close to get a better look at Arthur's eyes. They were actually kind of mesmerizing. He hadn't seen a bright shade of green like that on anyone before.

Arthur sucked in his breath through his teeth but didn't move away. He found his hands gripping the edges of the bench in as he watched Alfred's shockingly blue eyes look at him. He glanced towards Alfred's jaw, wincing at how ugly the purple mark looked up close. He felt like it hurt and it hadn't even happened to him.

"Of course I do. Probably not all day like you, but I sleep when I can," Arthur explained, gulping and ducking his head minutely. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone actually paying attention to his face this close.

"I'm serious. You're going to wander into traffic or something if you don't sleep more," Alfred said, sounding somewhat concerned, much to Arthur's chagrin. He didn't want someone like Alfred feeling concerned over him. He made him sick with all of his corporate selfishness, remember?

"I'm fine," Arthur protested, leaning back nervously when seeing a few curious glances shoot their way at how close they were.

Alfred blinked oddly at Arthur's reaction before leaning away slightly to give him some room. "Your ugly eye bags beg to differ," he stated bluntly.

"I'm not the only one who needs to fix his priorities," countered Arthur, tapping Alfred's bruise suddenly. Alfred yelped and placed his hand to his cheek.

"I told you, I just fell!"

Arthur didn't look convinced. "You said you got into a fight at school." Alfred's eyes widened somewhat before he looked away, pursing his lips and appearing noncommittal to the conversation.

"Th-that's right. I fell when I was in that fight."

Arthur scoffed. "Please. Your face is hideous."

"Well, so is yours," defended Alfred. Both males frowned at each other for a long while before Alfred slumped and relaxed, running a hand through his hair and looking away. "Never mind. Who cares. We're both ugly, we can agree on that."

"I don't think you're ugly–" Arthur started but stopped himself, clamping a hand over his mouth when Alfred looked at him, stunned. Arthur quickly recovered. "Yes, yes. We're both repulsive. What were you saying?"

Alfred sat back and looked unconfident again. "Oh. Um…Well, I was going to ask you something…"

"What is it?" Arthur asked indifferently, sitting up and brushing off some snow that had started to fall. He suppressed a shiver and blew warm air into his hands. Perhaps he would have to start dressing even warmer to come out here.

When Alfred didn't say anything, Arthur glanced back at him in wonder when the blonde was chewing on his lip and looking somewhat uneasy. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What?"

Alfred looked up and for a moment Arthur could see something flash behind his eyes that sent a wave of something very unfamiliar down to his toes. "Alfred?" he tried, the name tasting odd on his tongue for the first time.

Alfred quickly looked away with a grin, waving his hand and shaking his head. "No, it's stupid. I just remembered that I had something to do today. You get some sleep, all right? I'll get bored if I don't have anyone to talk to anymore," he said, gathering up his things and taking off.

Arthur stared after him, confused. "What in the world…?"

He honestly hadn't a clue what to make of that conversation.

* * *

_Friday, November 19_

"Sleeeeep."

"Piss off," Arthur growled, blinking rapidly to stay awake. His head felt heavy and his vision blurred around the edges. He hadn't slept in almost three days and it was starting to take a toll on him.

"Come on, Arthur. You're stupid to not sleep. Look, I'll be right here. No one's going to steal your stuff or molest you, okay?" Alfred said, trying to reason with the scowling Briton bobbing his head to stay awake. When had they become so familiar to use each other's names? Damn kid.

"Yes, because I trust someone like you to watch over me. You lost that supposed fight with your schoolmate. A right hero I have here," snickered Arthur derisively. Alfred didn't look amused, simply like a small animal with hurt feelings.

"I never said I lost."

"Oh, you lost. You have a lovely prize to show for it, too, lad," Arthur smirked at Alfred and patted his still sore cheek. Alfred pulled away and frowned.

"Dude, if you keep touching my face I'm going to have to call the cops on you."

Arthur rolled his eyes and sneezed. Stupid weather; was he going to get sick now on top of everything, too? "See? I told you. Can't handle anything yourself."

"It's just for half an hour. Get some fucking sleep already," Alfred groaned in irritation.

"Why don't _you_?" Arthur said. "You're looking rather tired yourself."

Alfred stopped mid-yawn, as if continuing would prove Arthur's point. "No," he denied.

"Can't pull a wool over my eyes."

"God, you're so _old_," Alfred sighed, plopping back against the bench with a huff. His shoulder brushed against Arthur's, making him wonder when they had started sitting towards the middle of the bench rather than plastered on the very edges.

"Old enough to be your grandfather?" muttered Arthur as he gave a hefty yawn.

"Great, great grandfather," corrected Alfred.

"Oh, my mistake."

Both sat watching the people walk by with heavy eyelids, bodies slumped and resting against one another as the weather seemed to bite at their skin with freezing teeth.

"I can't feel my toes," Alfred murmured, glancing at Arthur from the corner of his eye.

"Mmm," Arthur hummed in response, eyes already closed as he rocked forward. At the last moment, he lolled to the side and rested his head against the crook of Alfred's neck and shoulder. The American blinked at him curiously as Arthur began to snore. He jerked his shoulder.

"Arthur." He jerked it again, the Briton unresponsive, only leaning his head down so his messy hair tickled Alfred's cheek. Alfred looked down at him contemplatively before sighing. "At least you're sleeping, I guess."

Alfred didn't know how long it was that he watched the random faces of people drift by him, or how long it was that Arthur squirmed his cold, pale hand into Alfred's warm gloved one. All he knew was that even though it was snowing outside, he didn't feel quite so cold anymore.

The world continued to spin as the many pedestrians proceeded about their day, occasionally glancing at the two people nestled on that one blue bench, resting against each other for support.

If anyone looked closer they would see something more than what they would with just a passing glance. But for most people ignoring the two blondes asleep with snow sprinkled in their hair, they would just see it for what it appeared to be.

Just a park bench.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Thank you all for all the support and reviews. I was actually surprised how many people responded to this in 24 hours. More attention than I ever hoped for. Here's its longer, angstier conclusion. Somebody call the wambulance.

Enjoy.

* * *

_Wednesday, November 24_

"You're still not gonna talk?"

Arthur didn't respond to Alfred's curious question. He simply folded his arms tightly to himself to withhold a shiver racking his spine from the colder afternoons now that winter was nearly upon them, and pursed his lips in a thin, tight line.

Alfred had one knee rested up on the cool plastic of the bench as he watched Arthur through his frozen glasses. The Briton had been like that for a few days now, not speaking, trying his hardest not to even acknowledge Alfred's presence, and wearing an overall brooding disposition that outrivaled his previous aggravations. The American sighed into his scarf, wondering what the big deal was.

So he'd fallen asleep; so what?

He needed sleep anyway. Granted, waking up four hours later, curled up against Alfred who was breathing softly into the crook of his neck while he caught some z's of his own, was not the best thing to wake up to. From all he understood, Alfred had awoken to a furious hiss and a hand pushing him over the side and onto the snow.

Arthur's face was beet red with eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he looked at his watch. That was _way_ more than thirty minutes.

With a string of vibrant curses, most of which even made Alfred feel awkward, Arthur stormed away as quickly as possible to get back to work. Even to this very day, Alfred didn't know the repercussions of Arthur's actions. He didn't know how high a position the Englishman had, so he wasn't sure if he was chewed out or if he missed some super big deadline or meeting. All Alfred knew was that because of it, Arthur no longer wished to speak and/or associate himself with Alfred.

"I'll take that as a no then."

Alfred curled back against the bench with a despondent sigh. For a supposed responsible adult, Arthur sure seemed childish. Alfred wiggled his toes in his snow boots and peered at his cell phone. Arthur would be getting up any minute now.

Alfred licked at his chapped lips and glanced back at Arthur who was still looking ahead with a lethargic frown plastered to his lips.

"Is your job really that important? You know, to not sleep and stuff?"

Arthur didn't even bat an eyelash.

Alfred sank into his warm coat and hummed. "I don't know how anything could be that important that you would not sleep over it. Or eat. Or drink." Alfred paused and rubbed at his nose with his sleeve to stop an itch. "But I guess different people feel differently for things. I guess that's why you're mad for falling asleep. Although, I really will never understand why that could make someone mad."

Arthur inhaled a long breath before letting it out slowly. He felt like a human icicle. He wondered silently if this spot really meant enough to him to sit in the snow for it.

Then he thought back to his office when glancing over the trees to see the many tall buildings standing dauntingly. Yes, it certainly was.

Alfred shifted to his right making Arthur narrow his eyes at a dog being walked by a man across the pathway.

"I had this friend once. And he really liked school. Not for the sake of liking school, but because his parents fought a lot and he was always nervous and upset at home. School was the one place for him to get away from the broken beer bottles and screaming and crying. Even though my friend wasn't particularly good in school, he still loved it."

Alfred stuck his hand in his backpack and dug around until he pulled out a pack of gum. "But one day my friend ran into trouble. 'Cause my friend was good pals with another boy in his class named Toris, he was forced to see his buddy getting picked on by one of his larger classmates. My friend didn't like seeing Toris getting pushed around by his classmate who always smelled like vodka and was about as nice as a bulldog."

Arthur tried to ignore Alfred's stupid and most likely pointless story, but he couldn't quite zone him out. He wasn't sure if Alfred was aware that he was rambling.

The American easily popped a piece of gum in his mouth and began to chew. "Anyways, so my friend, being the hero that he was, stood up to the big, Russian brute and told him to stop messing with his friends. That was kinda stupid on his part, and it landed him a week in the hospital. But when he got back to school he still went at it again, sticking up for his friends, even though he knew that jackass was bigger and stronger than him. Pretty soon school wasn't his safe place anymore! I know, what an idiot, right? He totally destroyed the only place that wasn't chaotic."

Alfred turned to look at Arthur with animated features, waving his arms around wildly to the point that, even against his will, Arthur had to look over in curiosity.

"So he's miserable at home and backed into a corner at school. What a moron. I honestly don't know why I'm friends with someone so stupid. I think I pity him," Alfred laughed making Arthur furrow his brow. "But this friend of mine wasn't going to cry like a little baby for the rest of his life. He went out looking for another place to get away from the shit going on wherever he went. He nearly got lost a couple of times looking for this place and eventually had to take the subway for an hour every day just to get there."

Alfred leaned back and popped a bubble, stuffing his cold fingers into his pockets and looking out above the tree line. Arthur waited but Alfred didn't continue his story. He merely kept chewing at his gum, blowing bubbles here and there, and watched the people pass him by.

Arthur straightened up and frowned. That was it? That was all? Arthur wanted to scoff; of course the story would be pointless.

Checking down at his watch, Arthur sighed and stood up. He dusted the snow from his coat and aligned his collar. When he made to move, Alfred finally spoke up. Arthur looked down at the boy who didn't bother looking at Arthur, still lost in the mass of faces dancing around them.

"I know my story had no real point to it, but I thought I should tell you anyway because I think you and my friend have something in common. You guys both sacrifice a lot for something that you think you like. But even though you put in a lot of time and effort into it, you're still unhappy. School, work, who cares? You're both retards for treating it like it's the most important thing even though it kicks your ass from here to kingdom come and doesn't make you happy anymore."

Arthur stilled and flexed his fingers at his sides. He slowly let the words sink in as Alfred looked up at him with the tilt of his head. He smiled. "Just take a second to chill out. You shouldn't let your life revolve around something so stupid," he said, sticking his hand out.

Arthur blinked before taking the piece of gum offered to him.

"It's cinnamon."

Arthur stared at it before shaking his head and stuffing it into his pocket. As he walked away, shoes slushing uncomfortably against the wet snow, Arthur silently wondered if Alfred knew cinnamon relaxed him.

In the end, he didn't really care. He wasn't going to chew it anyway.

* * *

_Thursday, November 25_

"So where do you work exactly? It's walking distance right?" Alfred asked, kneeling down by the blue bench and patting at the snow. Arthur yawned into his hand and glanced over at the blonde who was looking way too amused to be making a snowman. Or judging by the knockers he was snickering at, snowwoman.

"As if I'd tell you that," Arthur scoffed. He wasn't sure why he had allowed himself to talk with Alfred once more, but chalked it up to not wanting to hear Alfred ramble on about every senseless thing known to man. At least when he was contributing a little to the conversation, he could shut the boy up for a while.

"What? Do you think I'm going to stalk you or something?" Alfred asked, looking up over his task to peer at Arthur. He grinned. "Don't flatter yourself."

Arthur glowered. "You misunderstand. As if I should be surprised by that now…" he faded off and rubbed at his temple. "Why are you so interested where I work?"

Alfred shrugged, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he poked his thumb into the face to make indents for the eyes. "I dunno. You seem to make such a big deal about it. It's only natural that I'd be curious," he explained, sticking two rocks onto the mound.

"I don't recall making a ruckus over my occupation."

"Oh, you make a ruckus all right," said Alfred, leaning up. "Hey, hand me that stick, will ya?"

Arthur followed Alfred's line of vision and leaned over to grab a twig by his shoe. He threw it towards the blonde, hitting him in the forehead. Alfred winced and rubbed at his face with a small frown before ignoring it and breaking the stick in half.

"What do you do at least? What could possibly make someone as worn down as you?"

Arthur exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips. He almost wanted to tell Alfred different things about himself. It wasn't like he was secretive or anything. But just the idea of getting to know Alfred on a more personal level then moderate strangers tickled Arthur the wrong way. He couldn't commit to something like that. That would mean Alfred was in the equation and Arthur wanted to just keep it himself, him, and only Arthur.

"I manufacture the little plastic tips on the end of shoelaces," drawled Arthur sarcastically. He flinched at how excited Alfred looked to hear that. It made something warm inside of his chest for some strange reason.

"Really?"

"No, not really."

Alfred's smile fell to a blank look once more. "Oh." He stuck the sticks into the woman and stood up to admire his handiwork. "So. What do you think?"

Arthur sighed and stood up as well, sore muscles and bones cracking and pulling in retaliation, before he took a few steps back and stared at a tiny snowman knee high with large breasts and two rocks for nipples. Alfred stood beside Arthur to hold out his thumbs and pointer fingers in a square and shut one eye, holding his hands out like a picture frame. "Get a gander at her." He finished with a clearly unnecessary wolf call.

"She's a dwarf," stated Arthur blandly, eyeing the longer left arm and short stature.

"She's vertically challenged," Alfred corrected.

Arthur blinked and rested his hands in his pockets. "Why does she not have any eyeballs?"

Alfred was too busy pretending to snap pictures of his hideous snowman thing. "Hm?"

"She has no eyes," repeated Arthur patiently.

"She has eye_ sockets_," Alfred offered, glancing at Arthur with a smile and rosy cheeks. Arthur raised an impressive eyebrow.

"Yes, but there aren't any eyeballs in them."

Alfred bobbed his head to the side once in surrender. "Yeah. But I couldn't find any more rocks. Plus, it was either give her eyes or nipples."

Arthur nodded in understanding. "Ah. So naturally nipples are the necessity."

Alfred snorted and grinned at Arthur. "No contest."

Arthur turned away, his attention back onto the snowman as he looked it over carefully. After a long moment, Arthur spoke up. "Do you mind if I make one minor adjustment?"

Alfred stuck his hands in his sweater pockets and leaned back. "Knock yourself out."

Arthur walked forward upon hearing that and stood directly in front of the snow creature. He abruptly pulled his leg back and kicked, the eyeless, nipple friendly dwarf crumbling down to rest on the ground with the rest of the snow. Alfred gawked.

"Dude! What was that for?" he asked and briskly made his way forward to rest over his snowman as Arthur slid back to his spot on the bench and continued to watch the pedestrians.

"I fixed it for you. Don't you think it looks better that way?"

"Ha-ha. You so fuckin' funny," Alfred mocked, sighing and squishing his creation down with the rest of the uneven snow. He flopped himself down on the bench with a sigh and craned his head back to look up at the messy clouds. It looked like someone spilled their water color pallet all over the sky but just used, like, only grays and stuff.

"Were you always like this?" Alfred asked absentmindedly as he kicked his leg back and forth.

"Like what?"

"Like a total stick in the mud with no sense of humor?"

"I have a sense of humor. For example, I thought it was comical that you tripped over nothing the other week. And I thought it was comical when you burned your tongue on scalding coffee. And I thought it was comical that you believed that hideous Frankenstein of a monstrosity was worth more than a kick to the face."

Alfred winced and pretended to pull a knife out of his side. "Ouch. Harsh."

"Mm," Arthur hummed in response.

"You know what I find funny?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and yawned once more. "Let me guess; a monkey with a tambourine?"

Alfred laughed and shook his head. "That you think you're fooling anyone with your cynical persona."

Arthur scowled and cast Alfred a displeased glare. Alfred seemed to be enjoying himself, smiling as if the green eyes flashing in warning wasn't something to be reckoned with. He knew criticizing anything about Arthur's personal life was a bad choice, but didn't care much at the moment. They weren't strangers anymore, were they? They were more like acquaintances or something, right?

"Thank you Doctor Phil for your marvelous insight."

Alfred sniggered into his glove, his insides dancing at the look Arthur was bestowing him. "There it goes again."

"I'd much rather be cynical then have my head in the clouds all the time," Arthur countered rightly so. He did seem to hate Alfred's impossible ability to be jolly. Who did he think he was, Santa Claus?

"My head's not in the clouds."

Arthur lowered his eyelids in disbelief. "Really? What do you want to be when you grow up, hm?"

"An astronaut," Alfred replied without skipping a beat. He blinked and realized his mistake for blurting that out when Arthur shot him a smug expression.

"My point exactly. I'm sure the idea of being up where your mind always is is a touching thought, but unrealistic. I'm guessing you're barely passing your classes."

"I'm doing good enough," Alfred said, shoulders slumping at Arthur's negativity. Would it kill him to be supportive for once? Maybe that was why he was some high ranking businessman. He couldn't think out of the box.

"I'm sure you are, lad. My apologies. Do send me a line when you're admitted into NASA, won't you?" Arthur chuckled to himself. Alfred rolled his eyes and lolled his head away, looking down at his crumpled snowman.

"Yeah, yeah. Yuck it up. What goes around comes around, you know."

Arthur pretended to quiver, thin-lipped smile still gracing his face as his eyes danced with amusement. "Ooh, I'm shaking."

Alfred cupped his chin in his palm and regarded Arthur curiously, still managing to enjoy this malicious spectacle even if he was the butt of the joke.

It was always fascinating to see Arthur's rare smiles.

* * *

_Tuesday, November 30_

Alfred's eyebrows shot into his hairline as he approached the park bench, mouth opening slightly in awe.

Arthur seethed. "Don't say it."

Alfred's pace slackened as he looked over the little scrapes over the Briton's face, a large bandage sticking clear across his nose. He blinked, opening his mouth before shutting it. He opened it again only to have Arthur snap at him. "Don't _say _it," he warned.

Alfred slid his backpack off his shoulder and set it on the bench. "Say what?" he finally answered after a moment, feigning confusion. Inside he was fighting with the urge to worry or laugh.

"You know bloody well what. I swear to God if I get any lip from you, I'll storm away, I will," Arthur growled. Alfred sat down closely to Arthur and examined his face with a tilt of the head and hesitant smile. He looked rather wear and tear. Arthur felt his face heat up as Alfred ran a finger over the bandage. Blue eyes jumped up to green and Arthur grit his teeth, body tensing in pure, unadulterated anger. "Don't. Say. It."

Alfred's face nearly tore apart by his grin. "Say what? I told you so?"

Arthur was on his feet in a second, standing legs apart and fists shaking at his sides as Alfred buckled over with laughter. "It's not funny!" he shrieked indignantly. Arthur ignored the stares he received at the spectacle him and the boisterously chortling blonde were making.

"Th-that was why you weren't here yesterday?" Alfred choked out past his laughter.

"I don't see how this is amusing to you," Arthur spat, shoulders shaking in barely contained annoyance. "That idiotic cyclist didn't see where he was going! I was in the crosswalk!" Arthur growled when Alfred's laughter increased. "I could have died!" His face heated up in embarrassment when Alfred rolled off the bench upon hearing that. Arthur watched the blonde with a heaving chest before spinning on his heels and marching away, Alfred's laughter ringing in the back of his ears.

Karma, his ass.

* * *

_Friday, December 3_

Arthur didn't even open his eyes when he felt the familiar shift in the bench as Alfred sat down. It was a surprisingly calm day, the air still and snow ceasing its fall. He didn't want to ruin the tranquil atmosphere by getting Alfred going on some ridiculous conversation.

He crinkled his nose under his bandage when the minutes piled up and Alfred still hadn't made a peep. With a little curiosity, Arthur cracked open his eyes and glanced over at the American who was staring at his shoes with a very solemn look gracing his face.

Arthur continued to watch a moment before speaking. "What's with the long face, lad?"

Alfred didn't even move.

"Hm? Cat got your tongue? That would be a miracle," Arthur muttered. He ran a hand through his hair and cracked his neck. He swirled his tea in his Styrofoam cup and took a sip from the lid. Arthur let his eyes rest against Alfred again, his brow furrowing slightly, when he received no response or smart alec comment.

"What the devil is the matter with you?" he asked, sitting up and narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Alfred's dismal expression. Something pulled tightly in his gut when seeing the redness around Alfred's eyes. Had he been crying?

Arthur hadn't been in contact with many teenagers in his life so he didn't quite know the protocol or how to feel around them when something wasn't quite right, but deep down in his chest he felt something lick at him with a sense of defense. He was overcome with the feeling to comfort the boy.

Well, maybe not quite comfort; more along the lines of beating the living shit out of whatever was making Alfred's lip quiver in such a painful way.

He set his tea down and sat up, pursing his lips. "Is something bothering you?" he asked seriously.

Alfred let out a trembling breath and frowned, brow creasing and eyes glossing over dangerously with a sheen of water. Arthur learned just then that he didn't like that look anywhere near Alfred's face.

"Alfred, are you listening?" he asked firmer, reaching out to shake the boy's shoulder only to get his hand slapped away. He blinked in shock as Alfred curled in on himself, boxing Arthur out.

"I don't want to talk to you today," he said lowly. Arthur felt a jolt of nervousness shooting up his spine before it fluttered away.

"Are you alright?"

Alfred rubbed a hand over his face and craned his neck so that Arthur couldn't see his face contort in an attempt to keep his tears back. He didn't want to let anyone see him cry. He _especially_ didn't want to let Arthur see him like this. So he turned away and hid his face behind his sweatshirt sleeve and spoke coldly.

"Please, just don't talk today, okay?" he pleaded.

Arthur reeled back slightly at the tone but didn't say anything. He leaned back and wrapped his hands in the warmth of his cup, not saying a word. Glancing over occasionally at Alfred, Arthur couldn't help but feel something rapidly burning hot with anger at every sniffle and hitch in Alfred's breath.

He felt like he did back when Alfred had showed up with a bruise on his face. And he felt just as defenseless now.

Arthur bit his tongue and willed himself to seem disinterested. After all, he couldn't impose himself into Alfred's personal life. That would cross the line into something more than strangers.

* * *

_Tuesday, December 7_

"How's that friend of yours doing lately?"

Alfred blinked in confusion, looking up from digging around the many papers in his backpack. "Huh?"

Arthur nursed his third cup of tea that day, blowing over the steam before taking a hardy sip. "Your friend; the one with the horrible life," he clarified, not taking his eyes off of a man and woman snuggling together under a tree, the man buttoning the woman's coat up. She kissed him on the nose sweetly making Arthur tilt his head with a lingering stare.

"Oh, him." Alfred resumed his digging indifferently. "Yeah, that guy's got problems. He's been alright I guess. Why do you ask?"

Arthur hadn't spoken of Alfred's little cry fest a few days ago. He simply went about his days as if he'd never witnessed it. He didn't know if Alfred was grateful for that or not, but he didn't care. Although, sometimes a thought would flutter into his mind when at his desk about Alfred's personal life. That had never happened before and it made Arthur uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if he was getting too heavily involved with this boy.

If worse came to worst, he would have to stop coming to his bench.

"That's great," Arthur responded. "No more fights or drunken arguments with his mother?"

"No, no. His old man's the drunk, not his ma. His ma's some whiny ex-beauty pageant nobody who's been off Vicodin for half a year now."

"Sounds like a lovely woman," Arthur muttered sardonically, taking another sip from his beverage.

Alfred pulled out a notebook and flipped through it quickly. "Yeah. Real charmer. My friend's actually going to miss her a little bit."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and picked up a spare paper that Alfred set on the bench. It was an English test with a big D branding the top of the page in a big red ink. Arthur put it down with a sense of boredom. "Is she going somewhere?"

"Yup. She's going somewhere far away where he'll never see her again."

Arthur pursed his lips, not quite liking the sound of that but not saying anything about it. He didn't know the whole story anyway. Alfred grumbled and rustled through his backpack. "Where the hell is it?"

"You need to organize yourself," said Arthur distastefully as he brushed garbage away from him. He blinked when seeing Alfred's wallet amongst the chaos of papers. Against his better judgment, Arthur reached out and grabbed it by one flap. He held it up until it opened, revealing a picture framed in plastic amongst an ungodly amount of gift cards.

Green eyes languidly skimmed over four faces; a large blonde man with a petite brunette woman. They each held one small boy, both wearing the same face but with different expressions. One boy grinned at the camera whereas the other being held by the woman shyly tucked his head down.

"There it is!" Alfred exclaimed, yanking his wallet from Arthur's hands who jumped in surprise. Alfred looked at the picture quickly before smiling. "That's my family," he announced almost proudly.

Arthur merely nodded and tried to appear impartial. Alfred let his eyes linger over the picture before turning it towards Arthur. "That's my twin brother, Mattie. He's always been pretty shy. Can't get him in front of a camera for anything nowadays."

"You don't look anything alike," Arthur admitted.

"We don't?" Alfred held the picture farther out and tilted his head. "We're twins though."

Arthur glanced away, eyes seeking out that couple under the trees. They already left. Of course Alfred and his twin brother looked the same. He just couldn't help but notice the enticing spark wasn't flaring in the other boy's eyes. There was no eagerness or liveliness like there was in Alfred.

Arthur silently wondered what a calmer Alfred would be like.

"It's only reasonable that you would be the homelier twin. Don't let it get you down too much," reassured Arthur. Alfred snorted and rolled his eyes, stuffing his wallet back into his backpack.

"Matt couldn't keep someone's attention to save his life. I don't know what you're talking about."

When Alfred began to stuff half completed homework and poor tests back sloppily into his bag, Arthur ran his tongue over his teeth. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask about Alfred's blatantly poor grades, but decided against it at the last minute. Instead, he finished off his tea and yawned.

That caught Alfred's attention.

"Speaking of homely people; how's your sleeping going?"

Arthur scowled. "Same as always. I'm fine as long as I have this," he motioned and shook his now empty cup. Alfred grimaced.

"Ugh. Tea is European urine, isn't it?"

"As long as coffee is America's."

"Hey, at least coffee gets the job done," Alfred argued.

"But leaves a dreadful aftertaste," Arthur argued with a cringe. Disgusting liquid, coffee was.

"Maybe you're just drinking it wrong?"

"Yes, that's probably it."

Alfred pulled out his phone and gasped, cursing. He quickly zipped up his backpack and threw it over his shoulder, stumbling to his feet. Arthur looked at him rather curiously as Alfred zipped up his jacket and tightened his scarf. "What's the matter with you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I gotta be somewhere or I'll be in huge trouble. Shit, I'm gonna be late," Alfred grumbled and blew some hair out of his eye. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"You have to be somewhere?"

"Yeah."

"Then what was the bloody point of sitting here for five minutes?" Arthur asked. All Alfred had done was show up, dig through his backpack, and prepare to leave. It actually irritated him quite a bit thinking that the boy even bothered to show up if he was just going to leave in the blink of an eye.

Alfred purposefully avoided that question and began to text something quickly on his phone. "I'll see you later, Arthur. Hope your tea works out for you."

Arthur started when Alfred ruffled his hair, not even getting enough time to smack the boy's hand away, before he was barreling down the pathway an out into the crowd. Arthur watched after him with a lump in his throat. What was the point?

He was annoyed that Alfred had even shown up to ruin five minutes of his quiet time.

But he found himself even more annoyed that he was upset with his abrupt disappearance.

Oh bother.

* * *

_Monday, December 13_

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently, checking his watch in what seemed like every thirty seconds. He didn't know why he felt so agitated, his body feeling restless. He blamed it on the coffee that he had tried to drink, much to Alfred's delight. After their brief disagreement on tea or coffee last Tuesday, Arthur had tried the vile substance in a bout of curiosity.

It did give him the zap of energy needed, but it also made his breath smell atrocious.

But Arthur secretly – though he really didn't want to admit it – knew that his agitation was from Alfred. Ever since the blonde had stormed off suddenly out of the blue, Arthur hadn't seen hide nor hair from the boy. The anxiety piling at the back of his mind was starting to affect his concentration at work, much to his chagrin. It was unacceptable and Arthur wanted to put a stop to it immediately.

Unfortunately, he couldn't, because Alfred hadn't shown up in the park for days.

And so Arthur did the only thing he could manage; he tapped his foot against the ground and scowled.

He pulled up his sleeve and looked at his watch once more, exasperated breath leaving his lips, when a flash of yellow caught his eye. He zipped his head up quickly and looked down the path to see Alfred slowly making his way towards the lone blue bench.

About fucking time.

Arthur folded his arms, hoping to look apathetic but knowing that he failed instantly, as he watched the downtrodden boy meander closer. Arthur felt himself tense, a searing sheet of red bubbling like lava deep within his belly when his eyes adjusted to Alfred's appearance the closer he got.

He wore a snow cap, something that Arthur had never seen the boy wear before, it covering his forehead, tufts of hair poking out. Alfred was also graced with a bigger scarf coiling around his neck like an anaconda, face a little paler making a bruise on his lip stand out more.

Again?

Alfred tested a smile but flinched at the hardened stare he received. "Hey," he muttered quickly and sat down, not even bothering to brush off the snow from the bench first. Arthur's eyes followed him but he didn't say anything. Alfred pretended like he didn't notice Arthur's intent stare and stretched his arms passively.

"It's colder today," he sniffed, rubbing his gloveless hands together. Arthur didn't blink, wondering where the boy's gloves were. He always wore gloves.

"I lost my wallet again and can't find it. It's really been bothering me. I can't really leave my house without it since it has my id and money and stuff," Alfred grumbled. Arthur's eyes were drawn to Alfred's tongue darting out to run over the cut on his lip, moving along it in a soothing motion. Alfred pursed his lips for a long while before testing a glance in Arthur's direction. He looked at him somewhat self-consciously seeing that Arthur had never moved, not even once. "What?" he asked cautiously.

Arthur exhaled a harsh breath, frown lines pulling at his face. Alfred looked uncertain. "I know what you're going to say," he admitted. Arthur didn't even bat an eyelash. "But it's really not a big problem. You'd understand if you were there. I was helping my friend out."

Arthur finally managed to find his voice. "Oh?"

Alfred twitched lightly at the incredulous and insensitive tone of Arthur's voice. Why did he have to be so unlike the other adults in his life and give him that look? Why couldn't he be like his teachers and neighbors and just silently pretend they didn't notice anything? Why did Arthur have to make this whole situation way more awkward than it needed to be?

"Yeah. He was – remember when I said his mom was going away?" Alfred paused, throat closing slightly as he tugged at his beanie. "Well she left."

Arthur frowned, taking in the insinuation. Alfred bit at his sore lip and winced, nose crinkling distastefully. "And she left with his brother. My friend was really upset since he and his brother were really close. But he wasn't as upset as his dad was when she sprung the news on him. My friend and I had to try and calm him down so he wouldn't do anything stupid. I got clocked by accident," Alfred said, voice cracking with quiet laughter.

Arthur continued to stare making Alfred nervous. "Can we just forget about it? My friends already gave me hell as it is," he joked, leaning back against the bench.

Arthur continued to stare for a long while before moving forward, close enough so that Alfred was surprised by the warmth near his body. Arthur carefully reached his hand out, not minding when Alfred flinched, as he placed his fingers against Alfred's bruised lip. The American's breath still and his posture slackened. Arthur gingerly ran his fingers down before his lips peeled back from his teeth in a sneer.

In a matter of seconds, he ripped Alfred's hat from his head and narrowed his eyes. "I knew it," he grit out, even as Alfred jumped and put his arm up to hide his forehead. It was too late, though, for Alfred's bangs weren't enough to hide the deep gash along the skin.

Arthur sprung to his feet. "Arthur, wait," Alfred panicked, standing up as well but stumbled over his foot ungracefully. The sandy-blonde felt himself shaking upon seeing this. He hadn't seen anyone look so beat up since the times where he'd practically gotten into a fight every night he went to a bar and got plastered. It seemed much different on Alfred's face though; youthful complexion marred by an act of violence.

He didn't even want to know what Alfred was hiding under the scarf.

"I suppose your _friend_ was beaten on 'accident' as well?" Arthur implied derisively. Alfred peered at him with large eyes, unsure exactly of what to say. Arthur shook his head and scoffed. "What the hell is this?"

"It's nothing," Alfred said, quickly putting his hat back on and glancing at the people walking by in paranoia. "Just got in a small fight."

Arthur wanted to laugh but couldn't manage it. "That is not from a schoolmate, Alfred. You're in a situation that far supersedes anything a classmate could do."

Alfred fidgeted and worried at his lip. Alfred's silence just added fuel to the fire. Arthur balked in disbelief. "I'm not even sure if you're aware of how serious this is. You probably treat it like a little game or something," Arthur said in disgust.

"You're wrong," Alfred defended. "I don't think it's a game. It's not fun. You're stupid if you think I think it's fun."

Arthur huffed, fingers curled into his palms as he watched Alfred shake his head. He knew it. He had gone too deep; he had become too accustomed to Alfred's presence. He had gone far farther than just strangers. He knew he was in uncharted waters when he started to actually _care_ for Alfred.

"I'm calling the authorities."

He didn't know that it was possible for someone's eyes to widen that far, but Alfred managed to do it. The remaining color drained from his face as Alfred blanched, looking absolutely shocked. "What?"

Arthur looked away, rummaging through his coat to find his cell phone when two hands clung onto him with a painfully tight grip. Arthur recoiled and looked at Alfred in disbelief as the boy shook his head desperately. "No. You're not calling the cops, Arthur. Do you know what would happen if you called the cops? You don't honestly think that everything would get better from getting people like the police involved, do you?"

Arthur didn't even waver under Alfred's pleading eyes. Alfred took in a shuddering breath and straightened in horror. He didn't know what he saw exactly underneath the anger in Arthur's eyes, but at that very moment, Alfred knew what Arthur's career was. It was as plain as day; right as rain.

He let out a lone chuckle in disbelief. What were his odds that he befriended a lawyer?

"No matter what you say, lad, it won't help. You need legal help," Arthur reasoned harshly. Alfred quickly shook his head and clung onto the Briton with a bruising strength.

"Please, Arthur. Don't call anyone. Just leave it alone."

Arthur tried to wretch himself out of Alfred's hold but found himself unable to. He had severely underestimated how strong the boy was.

"I will not."

"Arthur–"

"Look at yourself!" Arthur shouted furiously. He reached to snatch Alfred's hat away again but Alfred ducked, clasping onto it quickly.

"Don't!" he protested with a frown. "Don't touch it."

Arthur let out a noise of disbelief before placing a hand to his forehead and looking away with an incredulous gawk. "I can't believe what I'm hearing," he muttered. Alfred frowned and clutched his hat carefully as he watched Arthur inwardly struggle.

"Please, Arthur," he tried again, softer, so people wouldn't be drawn to their little spat. "As a friend…"

Arthur's sharp eyes darted to Alfred in irritation. "I am not your friend," he denied. He almost felt guilty for the brief flash of hurt that zipped across Alfred's face in a wince.

"As someone who shares a bench with me," Alfred tried again. Arthur couldn't argue with that one. "Don't get involved."

Arthur remained silent a moment, hesitant fingers flexing over his cell phone. "Why do you even bother to come here?" he growled under his breath. "Why come here like that if you know that I would be angry. Any person in their right mind would be angry!"

Alfred shifted his feet and looked away shyly. "Nobody else I know."

This dawning singed Arthur almost painfully. He didn't know what was worse; Alfred's horrible life of abuse and detachment, or the fact that Alfred knew that only Arthur would react in such a way. Why was he reacting like this? Arthur wanted to vomit.

"If I ever see you again, I will not hesitate to inform the authorities," Arthur warned lowly. Alfred looked panicked once again, eyes seeking out Arthur's cold gaze in one quick movement. He understood exactly what Arthur was implying.

Their quiet getaway of peace and distance from reality was no longer there.

It was no longer their bench, but Arthur's once again.

Alfred seemed to hesitate, unhappy with that response, before nodding reluctantly. He awkwardly tugged at his navy blue beanie and wiped his nose against the sleeve of his jacket, before turning like a wounded animal and heading back the way he came. Arthur watched him go with great unwillingness, something inside of him urging for him to call out and reason with the blonde, but he resisted. It was that stupid urge that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

No more. He would not allow himself to be involved with Alfred anymore.

He had already gotten his hands dirty thus far.

Arthur cursed loudly and kicked the bench with all his might.

It was no longer soothing and relaxing; the damned thing now only brought strain and anger.

* * *

_Tuesday, December 21_

The weather was terrible. Arthur frowned out the window of his office with his cheek in his palm, huffing. It matched his mood precisely.

He found his eyes dancing along the people below moving about on the sidewalk. They looked like ants from up here.

Arthur tapped his fingers restlessly against the wood of his desk, his neck feeling tighter than ever. He had a crick in his neck that wouldn't for the life of him go away. He considered hurling himself out the window. That would surely get rid of the crick, wouldn't it? And if he changed his mind at the last second, the soft snow would be there to catch him, right?

Snow was still soft after fifteen stories, wasn't it?

It had been a while since his little spat with Alfred, and Arthur was still impossibly upset. In any instance where he'd heard of any form of abuse, Arthur had never remembered reacting so strongly. That was proof enough that Alfred had wormed his way under his skin. He most certainly wasn't wanted there.

Arthur could barely manage thirty minutes a day for himself. If he and Alfred were to form any sort of relationship, it surely would end badly. He didn't have enough time.

No sleep.

No relaxing.

No talking.

It would be dreadful. Best to keep to himself and work himself into an early, lonely grave.

He silently wondered to himself about the blue bench in the park a few blocks away. Arthur had tried to sit there two days after he and Alfred parted, but found himself unable to relax. No gnomes or sweet magical creatures came to mind. Instead, he found his thoughts plagued with a distressed household, screaming parents, a beer bottle smashing into Alfred's forehead as he tried to keep his enraged father from killing his mother who was trying to sneak out with the quieter son.

The bench was ruined.

Arthur sighed to himself at the dark sky. It was really coming down out there. He silently glanced at the clock on his wall; it was time to take his refreshing thirty minutes.

Arthur begrudgingly got to his feet and slid his coat on. He blinked back his unfocussed eyes and stumbled a bit. Arthur grumbled to himself and pushed his way out the door, seeking out the elevator. He'd gotten less sleep than he ever had the past week, migraines abound.

As Arthur reached the bottom floor of his building, he ventured outside into the merciless onslaught of ice and slush. He trudged down the streets, gripping his coat tightly to his body as he winced at the bite of frost at his face. He pushed on, however, wanting nothing more than to eat up his free time and go back to work.

He slipped on a wet spot, catching himself on a woman in front of him with an apology. With a bit of embarrassment, Arthur crossed the street and walked down the familiar pathway he had taken for months. There were less people out due to the cold, but everything still looked familiar.

He rubbed his hands together and made his way towards that nostalgic dip to the side where a blue bench rested. He didn't know what possessed him to go back to the bench; he wasn't going to sit there. But Arthur soon realized that in that one random instance, he had made a smart choice.

Blinking curiously, trying to push the fuzz away from his tired eyes, Arthur looked up to see a figure huddled over on the snow piled bench, shivering like mad and rubbing their arms up and down to keep warm.

What were the odds?

Arthur's heart stuttered as he hesitantly made his way towards the bench, noticing that it was, in fact, Alfred as he approached. The boy didn't notice his presence at first. He was too lost in his own world to even recognize that someone was standing over him.

When Alfred finally looked up, blues eyes round with surprise, the American looked guilty. Arthur simply stared, wanting nothing more than to reach out and wipe away such a look from his face.

Alfred looked away, lips purple and nose and cheeks red, and faltered. "I-I know you said you didn't want to s-see me again…but," he paused, looking pained. "I don't have another spot. This is it for me. This – this is as good as it's going to get."

Arthur felt his teeth chattering from the cold as he watched Alfred shake. How long had he been sitting out here in the cold?

"I promise I'll leave. But can you just let me sit here for a little bit?" he requested.

Arthur frowned and shook his head. "No."

Alfred's face dropped and he curled down on himself, nodding. "O-okay," he said weakly. With quivering limbs, Alfred got to his feet and began to slip his backpack back on. But before he could turn to head back the usual direction he'd always come from, Arthur firmly clasped onto his wrist.

Alfred flinched, looking down to where an icy hand connected to even icier skin. "Arthur?" he asked, confused.

Arthur didn't bother saying anything as he shifted his body, turning to head back the way he came. Alfred stumbled but followed obediently. Extremely confused, but obediently.

"Where are you going?" Alfred asked when they drifted out of the park and back into the concrete jungle. Arthur just quickened his pace, already sick of the cold and Alfred's trembling voice. Alfred really needed his bench more than Arthur did, huh?

Pushing open the large doors, Arthur strolled into the lobby, walking into the elevator and dragging Alfred in. He didn't pay any attention to any curious eyes following him and his soaked body covered with snow, nor the fact that he hadn't let go of Alfred's wrist even all the while they were in the elevator.

The doors opened when he reached his floor and Arthur briskly stepped into the heated hallway and made for his office. Alfred looked around in wonder, never ever believing that Arthur would take him to his work. At least, he thought this was where Arthur worked.

When they finally made it into Arthur's office, the Briton shut the doors, spinning around to the stunned American and pressing his hands against Alfred's cheeks. Alfred winced, his face still sore from that night with his family, but let Arthur sternly examine his face.

He was nervous. Alfred still remembered Arthur's threat to call the police if he ever saw his face again.

Well he was examining his face now; that had to be worse. Alfred felt a pit of nerves bundle themselves in his stomach at the thought of Arthur making good use of his threat. He certainly seemed like he was the kind of person to follow through with things like that.

"Where's your gloves?" Arthur asked after a long while.

Alfred blinked stupidly. "Mattie has them."

Arthur hummed low in his throat before brushing Alfred's bangs aside to get a look at the ugly gash along his face. The Englishman scowled, still feeling that burning anger starting to nip at him. Arthur patted Alfred's cheek harshly and walked past him, ignoring Alfred's yelp.

"Sit down."

Alfred spun around to see Arthur peeling his wet coat from his shoulders and slinging it over the back of his chair. He then looked to see a chair on the other side of Arthur's desk. Not wanting to test the waters, Alfred sat down.

His skin burned from the warm air on his numb body. Hey, at least he wasn't cold anymore.

"You didn't bring me up here to trap me or something, did you?" Alfred asked suspiciously. He kept glancing towards the phone on the end of the desk. Arthur rolled his eyes and took a seat in his own chair.

"What is with kids and their constant paranoia with the police?"

"I blame the media."

Arthur rubbed at his eyes and resisted the urge to yawn. He needed some aspirin. Alfred craned his neck and sniffed when seeing Arthur's eye bags become more prominent.

"I see you're still not sleeping," mumbled Alfred. Arthur glared unappreciatively.

"I see you're still in an unfit home," he retaliated making Alfred hunker down into his shoulders. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose before reaching in his bottom drawer and pulling out a bottle of scotch. He didn't care for Alfred's incredulous look when pouring himself a glass. He deserved one, damn it.

Wincing at the lovely burn down his throat, Arthur continued. "How long have you been going there?"

Alfred hesitated. "Couple days now."

"You went despite my warning?"

Alfred nodded. Arthur paused, resting his lips against his shot glass before setting it down. "That bad, huh?" Alfred didn't respond. He wasn't going to walk into that one. Arthur mentally applauded him stubbornness. Perhaps he would make a good attorney some day. He smiled to himself; no. The boy belonged in the clouds with the other astronauts.

"Are you going to do it?" Alfred asked after a moment.

Arthur knew what he was referring to, his eyes flickering over to his telephone. "Should I?"

Alfred quickly shook his head with a frown.

"Why not?" Arthur inquired, taking another sip from the bottle. Ah, the good stuff. "What do you have that's worth clinging onto? You said it yourself, your mother left and took your brother. You won't be seeing them again. All that's left is your boozer father. I can imagine he has a mighty impressive right hook."

Alfred pursed his lips and clicked his shoes together against the carpet.

Arthur paused. "Well? Go on, lad. I'm not going to bite. What are you so desperately wanting to keep?"

Alfred frowned indignantly up at Arthur. The Brit raised his eyebrow. "Well?"

Alfred chewed his bruised lip. "The bench," he reluctantly admitted, surprising Arthur.

"Pardon?"

Alfred sighed overdramatically. "The bench. I want the bench."

For once, Arthur wasn't sure what to think of this. Alfred was willing to endure such a terrible home life and horrible school life all for a lousy bench? Arthur scoffed. Yes, the bench was a lovely place, but only for a measly thirty minutes. After that, in comparison to not getting slapped in the face, a bench was nothing.

"Be serious," Arthur warned sternly.

"I am serious." Alfred glared, not liking the doubting gaze he was receiving.

"Why do you want that bench so badly? It's a stupid piece of frozen plastic."

"Because."

Arthur leaned across the desk with a frown, fingers curling over the telephone in a silent threat that made Alfred stiffen. "I'm not here to play games with you, Alfred."

With great disdain and an awful amount of fidgeting, Alfred finally blurted out with red cheeks, "It's the only thing I look forward to, okay!"

Arthur stilled. "What?"

A sigh. "It's the only thing I look forward to in the week. I hate everything else. If I got my own place or something then I wouldn't have an excuse to come back and see…" he couldn't finish his sentence, tongue feeling heavy. Arthur stared at the boy in disbelief at his admittance.

He wanted the bench as an excuse to see…him? Was that what he was implying?

Arthur Kirkland, known recluse and workaholic, was actually the highlight of someone's day and reason to live in a less than comfortable environment?

When had that happened?

Arthur fell back in his seat in shock, feeling just as awkward as the squirming male across from him did. What was he to say to that? He glanced towards the phone, then to Alfred, not sure how to respond. Despite the warmth flooding his chest and making his fingers and toes tingle, Arthur still didn't want Alfred to use that as an excuse.

He didn't want to be Alfred's excuse to deal with that nonsense.

Drat.

* * *

_Wednesday, January 19_

"So you're completely out now?"

Alfred sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes."

"You're not lying, are you?" Arthur asked, narrowing his eyes as he took a sip of his tea. Alfred groaned and ran his hands over his face.

"Dude, quit asking me. I'm out. All the boxes are gone. Presto chango; I'm no longer a two hour subway trip away. Happy now?"

Arthur simply looked away blankly, not willing himself to vocally voice his relief. It had taken a lot of persuasion, something he was quite good at, to talk Alfred into moving out of his father's house. Since Alfred was nineteen and a legal adult, he was legally allowed to find his own place; a place where he didn't have to duck when someone got too angry.

Alfred was still unhappy about Arthur paying his rent, but he assured the American that it would all stop once Alfred found himself a job. At least this way, the boy was forced to take initiative and school seriously. If it was the last thing he did, Arthur would make the boy the best astronaut in the history of mankind.

"Did you seriously have to mention to my dad that you were my legal counsel? I'm pretty sure he woulda still let me go without you saying that. He got kinda freaked out," Alfred grumbled into his coffee cup. He watched two women walk by with slight interest as they laughed with each other.

"Serves him right," Arthur muttered into the edge of his cup.

Alfred kicked at a pile of snow, revealing the grass that patiently waited to bloom once more below the frosted ice. Arthur glanced over at Alfred and regarded him with subdued interest.

"Whatever happened to your friend?" he asked after a moment.

Alfred blinked and looked up from over his warm cup. "Who?"

"Your friend with the horrible life. How is he doing now?" Arthur asked, placing his cold hand against the blue plastic beneath him. Alfred paused, glancing down at Arthur's hand before grinning and placing his own above it. Arthur curled his fingers at the feeling of the glove warming his skin.

"He's never been better."

Arthur let his eyes linger, feeling as though he was drowning in the two pools of warm blue. He looked away coolly with a slight tinge to his cheeks, seeming satisfied with that answer.

"That's good to hear."

Alfred laughed and leaned back into the bench, taking a large gulp of his coffee and finishing it off. A muffled beeping reached his ears as he glanced over to see Arthur look at his watch. He sighed and stood up, Alfred watching him curiously.

"Gotta go already?"

Arthur frowned. "Two hours is long enough, Alfred. I don't have all day to dawdle like you do." He paused. "Which you shouldn't be doing. Get off your arse and look for a job already. What am I, made of money?"

Alfred sighed and got to his feet as well, reaching in his pocket and popping a piece of cinnamon gum into his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up already."

Arthur scowled and turned to head back towards his building when he stopped. "You coming?"

Alfred hesitated before waving Arthur away. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Arthur shrugged indifferently and continued down the pathway back towards the buildings. When he was a good distance away, Alfred turned his attention back to the bench and took out a black pen. Leaning over, he scrawled his name right next to Arthur's label, the sticker with Arthur's name on it still stuck to the bench like glue.

Alfred leaned back to admire his work, grinning sheepishly to himself before capping the pen and following after Arthur.

It may have been stupid, but it was more than just a park bench to him.

It was his favorite spot in the world.


End file.
